


In Need of a Home

by jacobby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Fix-It, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Minor 'character' death so be warned please, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Pets, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacobby/pseuds/jacobby
Summary: Unlike any sort of marriage counseling, theirs started with a cat.





	In Need of a Home

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY! this is out of my system. i can rest easy and move on to different things. 
> 
> huge thanks to [Chels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead) for helping me go over the initial plot/pacing problems and to [Ali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkpilot/pseuds/starkpilot) for being an awesome beta!

There were exactly 1,587 messages in his inbox when Tony had the courage to pick up the damned flip phone again after two months. He was advised by everyone—pretty much just Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, and occasionally Peter—not to open a single text from Steve. But when did Tony ever listen to anybody? Needless to say, most of the texts were filled with sweet nothings and apologies. It took Tony one week to read through everything, and he ignored the tears that would spill out without warning, even in the midst of his friends.

He was a little surprised—and slightly disappointed, but he wasn’t about to admit that—that Steve never once called him. He shrugged, set his pride aside, and pressed the dial button.

The phone barely even finished a ring and then, “Hello?” Steve’s voice was frantic, almost begging.

Tony couldn’t bear the weight of it. He stopped in the middle of pacing and just sat on the floor, head cradled in his free hand as he did his best to form words without sounding like an idiot. “If we want to make this work... I might have to break the law for you.”

Uncertainty leaked through Steve’s voice as he gave a shaky “okay” before Tony hung up.

He called Rhodey the next day and asked for help.

“You want to do what?” Rhodey asked. He was just about ready to castrate Tony.

“I just need you to oversee the facility while I’m gone,” Tony offered weakly. “It’s just a for a few months, tops.”

“And you’re letting a wanted fugitive of a husband in your home—”

“—safe house—”

“—whatever, because what? Because you miss him?”

Tony shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

Rhodey groaned  and crossed his arms over his chest in response. “Yeah, that makes sense coming from you. If Ross finds out—”

“—a big _if_ —”

“—he’s going to grill you and send you to jail.”

“That’s why I need your help,” came Tony’s swift answers.

“You’re a walking migraine, you know that?”

“Yup.”

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

Tony brought Natasha in on their little plan. She was the only one who had had constant communication with Steve. She was already planning to cross over to the other side anyway; no point in stopping her, so Tony might as well use her to his advantage.

Nonetheless, she was in. “Steve won’t stop bitching to me. That needs to end” was her own way of saying she loved the both of them and would be more than willing to help.

Tony didn’t point it out. He did give her a hug. “I have an island,” he said.

“Of course you do,” Natasha replied. “Is it for faking your own death?”

“You’re watching too much TV again.”

“Nothing much to do here aside from all the bullshit from Ross. I’d rather let TV rot my brain.”

Natasha stayed as the middleman between Steve and Tony. Steve had something to finish up wherever he was, while Tony had the whole Accords affair up his ass. Natasha was more than ready to bail on them and retire on her own since it took over a month before everything was settled.

Tony was having trouble on whether he’d bring Pepper in on the plan. Just a few days before he was off to his small island, he decided against it. As much as he trusted her, he really didn’t need to put any more unnecessary weight on her shoulders. He did take her out to some fancy lunch. Buying her a new dress and a new pair of stilettos might have been the overkill that set off a few alarms in her head.

She only gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

Tony considered it a win.

That afternoon, Rhodey and Nat helped him pack. He insisted that he could do it alone, but they were already pulling out clothes and other necessities before he could finish another sentence.

“Coulson agreed to be your escort. I’ll give you his number. Just say the word and he’ll be there,” Natasha said as she neatly folded three of Tony’s more comfortable hoodies on his bed: a stolen hoodie from Thor, one of Steve’s, one of Rhodey’s, and one of her own that Tony had grown to love so much (it was something she stole from Clint during their early days at SHIELD. It was one of her favorites too, so her allowing Tony to have it was like a blessing from the gods).

“Doesn’t Coulson have bigger fish to fry?” Tony asked.  

“Sure. Doesn’t mean he won’t fly you guys across the globe just to see each other.”

“And you’re sure we can trust his team?”

“I trust Coulson to make the right call.”

“If Steve tries anything again, I’m bringing out the big guns,” Rhodey murmured after a lapse in the conversation. He zipped up one of the bags and dropped it on the floor.

“You’ll be the first to know,” Tony said.

Rhodey doubted him anyway.

Then, the faithful day came. It was sunny, with the right amount of breeze that kept Tony cool. He had his morning coffee at the right time. No one in the facility suspected anything. It was a beautiful day all in all.

All Tony wanted to do was crawl back to his bed and hide there forever.

“She’s going to be your pilot from now on,” Coulson said when he finally got his ass in the plane.

“Melinda May, huh?”

“You better hurry up and fix whatever this is. I have better things to do,” she replied.

He strapped himself in his seat. “Don’t marry a wanted fugitive.”

“Yeah? I might have an idea what that’s like.”

He liked her already.

Tony arrived first. Coulson and May took off again and five hours later, the Quinjet arrived with Steve in tow.

He didn’t move from his spot at the sound of the thrusters landing. He sat waiting by the counters in the kitchen when the front door opened and shut. His heart skipped a beat, and his index finger stopped tapping the countertop. He braced himself as he headed to the receiving area.

Steve stood motionless by the front door, waiting to be invited in. Forlorn eyes mixed with a growing stubble sounded just about right for the man.

Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach. Emotions tugged at him left and right. Contradictions plagued his mind as he rocked back and forth on his feet. It shouldn’t have to be this hard to look at Steve. It shouldn’t have to be this hard to look at the man you love— _still_ love despite all the bullshit and punches he had thrown at you.

Love wasn’t always a necessity in marriage. It was almost a luxury to stay in love and to stay deep within the roots of trusting for the sake of it.

But luxury it may be, the hard work that went behind everything one built to keep strong was nearly unfathomable. In a marriage, fallings-out were difficult but common, especially when the rest of the world weighed in what you could and could not believe. What they did was for the rest of the world to see, and the rest of the world always had a say in it. It was difficult to find balance between love and work, because the human race could literally be at stake.

The government’s involvement in the Avengers affairs were warranted. Tony had seen it coming, and up until the moment General Ross had stepped inside the Facility, he had put it in the back of his mind. Then all had gone to shit. Then again, and again, and again. It had been inconvenience after inconvenience, piled up, one after another. Because what was the rest of the world’s problems but an inconvenience to love? To trust? It was all there to put whatever they’ve got to the test. And it was working.

Their first night together was dreadful. None of them spoke a word. Tony had a nightmare that had him screaming. Steve locked himself up in the storage room for two days straight. Sharing the bed was obviously not on the table just yet.

Tony spent most of his days in his workshop in the safe house tinkering and playing loud music. He would sometimes come up to find Steve sitting on the sofa—his bed for the time being—and just staring at the coffee table.

This went on. It was driving them both insane.

It wasn’t until day sixteen that Tony first spoke to Steve.

“I have to go back to the Facility.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, trying to school his expression from the look of hurt that just passed. He was failing at it.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Just  for the night. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.”

And with that, Tony left.  

He almost felt guilty taking him away from his share of their little team—or whatever’s left of it.  He knew there was going to be more days like this, when Tony had to go back to the city for something urgent, something unplanned. He still did have a superhero team and a company to oversee.

When he arrived at the facility, everybody was very welcoming. They asked where he had come from, and why he hadn’t been there for days.

Tony kept his answer short and truthful. “Just going through some bullshit.”

The unspoken question was clear in the way they look at him. ‘Are you getting a divorce?’

He certainly hoped not.

Ross was being an even bigger asshole that day, always interjecting about Captain America and what he was going to do with him once the government found him.

Tony just scoffed inwardly, and left the meeting early before he choked the living hologram out of Ross. Any mention of Steve still left him in a daze, especially when it came from the mouth of the man who started their demise in the first place. Steve might be an asshole, but he was Tony’s asshole—innuendos included. He wasn’t about to listen to another man go on and on how much they wanted to fuck Captain America over.

He walked around the small town just outside the grounds of the facility, and there he found his saving grace. It was the moment of clarity he had been waiting for. See, when a person is desperate, they do stupid things sometimes. They mistake a simple impulsive decision for a peace of mind personally handed to them by some godly being. Tony wasn’t any different, even though he was a lot smarter than the usual desperate man.

The way back home was a lot quieter than he expected. Coulson looked tired, although he was conversational if a conversation ever sparked.

Tony only nodded his goodbye and was off the plane the instant they arrived. He entered the house slowly.

Steve was asleep on the sofa. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed. The blanket he was using didn’t even reach his feet.

Tony’s footsteps were quiet, as he tiptoed his way to the couch. He knelt beside Steve, a little scared and a little pissed at himself that he was the one making the first move, but he didn’t want to lose the courage he had mustered. He poked Steve’s cheek a little harder than he should. He could just slap him, but he wasn’t about to go down that path again. One fist fight was enough for the two of them in their entire lifetime, thank you very much.

“Tony?” Steve came to slowly. Reaching a more alert state, he grabbed for his blanket and raised it over his chest. He leaned as far away from Tony as the couch would let him.

“Easy there, big guy,” Tony said, getting up and sitting on the other end of the couch. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. He folded his legs to give Tony more space. “What time is it?”

“Six. Six-ish? Not sure. You know you could’ve slept on the bed, right?”

“I’m—” Steve cleared his throat when it came out too raspy. “I didn’t really wanna risk it.”

“Risk what? Feeling comfortable?”

“No—just. I don’t know. Something?” A beat of silence passed. A look if remorse edged its way across Steve’s face. “I love you. God, I love you so much. You do still believe that, right?”

It was as if those three simple words were supposed to mean the world to them. It meant apologies, and comfort, and care. For some, it could have been—should have been enough. But they both knew they were way past the bliss of simplicity.

“That’s why we’re doing this.” Tony tentatively reached for Steve’s hand. He placed an index finger on top his open palm, and gently drew circles on them. One finger turned to two turned to three, then he clasped Steve’s hand on his own with a gentle squeeze. There was always too much to feel in too little time. The whiplash of fear and guilt and anger and sadness was enough to push Tony to shut down, to force himself to tinker in his shop and just _do something else_ before he combusted into flames _._ But he didn’t because he knew that if they wanted to do this right, they had nowhere else to go but forward. “And, I love you. You gotta remember that too before you beat yourself up for the littlest things, Steve.”

“It’s not just the bed—”

“I know. Trust me. I know, dear. But it’s a start.”

Fallings-out were difficult, and even more so when one half of your marriage was a guy in a tin can suit, while the other jumped out of windows in a flag costume. Consequences were dire, and the decisions made after required a good amount of thought and planning. Love demanded all of this and then some.

Which was why Tony brought home a kitten.

He lifted the lid off the box sitting on the coffee table. There was a small _meow,_ before Tony picked up the small animal and placed it on Steve’s lap.

“What’s this?” Steve stiffened, as if he was afraid of hurting it. It was hairless in some parts. Skinny and weak, too. Slowly, he petted it with one finger, and the kitten settled in the small nook where his legs met.

“Our saving grace,” Tony said proudly, “it’s a kitten. Not exactly a recent product of the 21st century, Steven—”

“I know what a kitten is, _Anthony._ Why’d you bring it here?”

Tony shrugged. “Poor thing was by the alleys near the facility, crying. I figured she needed a home. And you need company whenever I can’t be around.”

“Oh, I…”  He squinted at Tony in disbelief. “I don’t deserve this.”

Tony wagged a finger side to side.  “Shut up, Steve. What did I just say about trust?”

“Trust that you love me?” Steve said, his voice low and soft.

“And trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I never did say sorry.” Steve bowed his head, unable to look at Tony in the eyes. The kitten was still on his legs. It was comfortable and asleep. “There’s just too much to say. I don’t regret the decision I made with the accords or with Bucky. But I do regret hurting you. I regret not telling the truth when I should have. I regret making you bleed. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.” Steve paused, now looking at Tony with the most earnest expression. “You might believe that I deserve whatever we’re doing now, but I don’t think I do. I can’t take back what I did. I can only do more to prove to you and to myself that I do deserve this. That I deserve you.”

“I hurt you, too. There’s nothing to prove, Steve.”

Steve heaved a deep sigh. “Yes, there is.”

“Fine, okay.” Tony bit his lip in frustration. “But let’s take this one step at a time. That cat’s here now. Let’s make the most out of it.”

Steve nodded. He glimpsed at the kitten again and smiled.

“First question. Do you like it? I already bought all the necessities and it honestly cost a lot of money. And that’s coming from a billionaire, so please say yes.”

“As long as it’s from you, you know I’d love it.”

“So you don’t like it.”

“Tony,” Steve warned. “I love it. Trust that. It’s a start, right?”

“Right.”

Steve leaned forward just a little bit, his face inching closer to Tony’s. He paused just far enough that there was still a good amount of space between them.

Tony wasn’t eager, keeping still in his position, but he was definitely not saying no. He licked his lips in anticipation, feeling a little dumb for getting this nervous kissing his husband.

“This is okay?” Steve asked.

“It’s a start.”

They kissed, a small peck on the lips. It was their first after three months, and how they survived not locking lips after two weeks of being alone together escaped Tony the moment they did.

Steve placed his head on Tony’s shoulder. “You have a name for her yet?”

“Stripes. Like stars and stripes.”

Steve scoffed. “This is a jab at me. I can feel it.”

“Coulson suggested. Said maybe we needed ‘a little old fashioned,’ whatever that means.”

Steve only chuckled, then lifted the little kitten up in his big hands. She looked up at Steve, and let out a small meow.

They had steak and drank some wine that night, their first proper dinner in a while. Tony did most of the work since Steve was still bad at cooking, though he did help. How he could have survived without Tony to give him proper food to eat, Tony didn’t know.

The next time Tony had to leave two weeks later, they were in a much better place. Steve still slept on the sofa, but he had Stripes with him most nights.

They had only screamed at other three times, which they had to stop for the kitten’s expense. All in all, it had been good.

Tony had to keep a faux forlorn expression during his stay in the facility.

Somebody from their medical department finally asked him if he was having a divorce.

Tony just looked down and walked away in response.

There were more questions aimed at him. Natasha had just gone AWOL. He acted disappointed after Vision told him that particular news; even made sure Ross saw to it that he looked the part.

“Your team is scattering,” Ross said.

‘ _We have you to thank for that_ ,’ he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

“There’s rumors of a divorce going around the country, Stark,” Ross said.

“And you mention this why?”

“Can’t have a divorce without Steve’s signature,” Ross said cryptically.

Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s a rumor, Ross. That’s what happens when you’re a celebrity.”

“You’re not a celebrity. You’re a threat to the world’s safety.”

“No, you’re mistaking me for the other thing.”

Tony was starting to sense a pattern: be a dick to Ross who was being an even bigger dick—could be compensating for something—shut off the holograms, then walk around the outskirts of the facility to clear his head.

This time, Rhodey joined him.

“It’s good exercise for my legs,” he said as he caught up. “How’s the married life?”

“I brought Steve a kitten. We named him Stripes.”

“Right. Of course you did.” Rhodey eyed him warily.

“I found her somewhere around here,” Tony continued. “At first, I thought I was just going crazy, taking in a cat. What if Steve didn’t like it? What if none of us were equipped to take care of such a thing? But then I thought, better to have a home than none at all. So I took her. She was so small. She was crying. Muddy as fuck, too.”

“Kinda like that?”

Tony looked at where Rhodey was pointing.

The non-existent higher power was at it again; Tony was sure it was messing with him. He kept on getting epiphanies at the sight of small animals.

He slept for most of the ride home.

When he got back, he made a quick search for Steve whom he found on their deck.

He was sat on one of the sunbathing chairs, sketch pad in one hand and a pencil in the other. Stripes alerted him of Tony’s arrival with a meow.

“There’s a cat on your head.” Stripes tended to cling onto just about anything now.

“Kinda stings actually—oh my god, is that a puppy?”

“Yeah. He was in a box near that pizza place I told you about. The only puppy left.” Tony sat opposite Steve, placing the puppy beside him. “Went for a quick trip to the vet to get him checked and bought some puppy things that should last us a while. He’s got a broken paw but nothing that won’t heal.”

The puppy was skinny, and sometimes shivered and shook from the cold it had. Despite this, he was still cheerful. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out, no doubt happy that someone finally fed him something.

“But we have a cat. Don’t you think—”

“Cats and dogs can be friends. You just a have to be patient with them,” Tony surmised.

Steve faced Tony, but kept Stripes on top of his head. He gave her a little pat with his finger and hummed. “There’s a metaphor there,” he said. He then took Stripes off of his head, and placed her on his lap. He tilted his head to the side as he waited for any violent reaction from her.

“I can’t believe we’re getting marriage counseling from a bunch of animals,” Tony groaned. “Sorry for tangling you up in this mess with us, little man,” Tony directed at the puppy, “but you’re happy to be here, right?”

“Sergeant,” Steve said.

“Excuse me?”

“His name. If it’s okay. I—um. Want his name to be Sergeant if that’s okay.”

Tony smiled. “A little predictable of you, husband of mine, but Sergeant it is then. Why don’t you try acquainting him and Stripes over here?”

“You sure he won’t bite?”

Tony shrugged and motioned Steve with a flick of his index finger to come closer. Sergeant looked harmless enough, while Stripes was curious at the most.

Steve knelt in front of Sergeant, while Stripes was still firm in his chest. He leaned forward just a bit to give the animals a good look of each other. When Sergeant inched a little closer to get a sniff of them, Steve jerked away. Tony put a firm hold on his shoulder, easing the tenseness in his muscles. He relaxed and tried again, this time, only holding out Stripes with two hands supporting her body. Sarge licked her once, and then let out a small _woof._ Stripes’ earlier curiosity was replaced with nonchalance, only booping the small puppy on his nose in response.

Tony couldn’t help but grin, though he was trying his best to be indifferent. A light warmth settled in his chest. “See? Friends.”

Steve smiled back at him, obviously pleased with the small exchange. “You think it’ll be as peaceful once they’re older?”

“Peaceful? No. Stripes is a snark in her own cat ways. But they’ll be fine.” Tony grabbed for Steve’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Also, as long as you clean up their shit, because I sure as hell won’t be.”

Steve snickered. “Of course not. You’ve got the rest of the world’s messes to clean up while I play housewife over here.”

Tony stiffened, any sign of amusement gone from his face. He gave the back of Steve’s hand a little kiss. “And you’re okay? Hiding out here while the rest of the world fucks itself over? You don’t miss being _Captain America_?” Guilt was never going to escape either of them, and they both have very different issues for feeling it. Tony could only eye Steve as he waited for an answer, once or twice looking at the pets who were peacefully sharing a space.

Steve sat beside Sergeant and Stripes. “I’ve been thinking…” Steve started.

Tony tightened his grip. “Sounds dangerous.”

“Maybe. I could say the same to you.”

“The _world_ said that about the both of us.”

“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Steve reprimanded.

“No, it doesn’t. But it turned into a bad thing anyway.”

“Okay.” Steve took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “So, in line with that, I was thinking.”

Tony waited for the rest of his speech without prompt, only staring at those baby blues, calculating and focused, and looking as bright as the ocean. Even after years of being together, he was still captivated by them.

“I was thinking that maybe we should stop thinking.”

What? “What? Are you high? Steve, that’s even dumber than—”

“No. No. It’s just… Just for a day or two. Thinking...it keeps me distracted from what I have in front of me. It keeps me from seeing… that.”

“What, the animals?”

“Not just the animals. How they… um…” He was struggling, opening and closing his mouth in search for the right words. “They look so calm… and happy. Because you found them a home. You found _me_ a home even in all this chaos. So, yeah, maybe we _are_ getting goddamned marriage counseling from a bunch of animals, but I really wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Where’d you pull that out of?” Tony’s voice was playful, but he was surprised, nevertheless.

“My ass?”

Tony chuckled at first, genuinely caught off guard with Steve’s answer. It was silly how much of him he could see in Steve, and yet they were still so different. He hadn’t even noticed that he had been bending down laughing his ass off, hands on his knees to support him, until he heard Steve laugh along. They must have moved too much in their hysterics because Stripes jumped down from the chair and on the floor.

“Fuck, Steve.” Tony said in between giggles. “The look on your face. This. This is why I married you.”

“That’s it?”

“I’d come up with more reasons, but you told me not to think too much.”

“I’ll hold on to your part of the bargain, and you hold on to mine.”

Tony did his best to think less. When it didn’t work, he would talk to Steve or Stripes or even Sarge about anything to distract himself. It was good. Smooth, even; as smooth as it could be when it involved volatile superheroes, a cat and a dog.

Tony was scared shitless.

Because where there was sunshine and butterflies, there was bound to be a shitstorm right around the corner. Tony didn’t want to believe it at first, clinging on to whatever good they were having in the moment. But that was how his life had always been, and he wanted to stay on guard.

It was just as Steve said, “stop thinking.” But Tony was too distracted about keeping what they had that he wouldn’t always get the chance to enjoy them. Only problem was, Tony was unable to shut off his brain. Curse of a genius, he should say, and he was going to have to live with the few blind spots he couldn’t cover. That was what a team was for; a team that wasn’t really at his dispense.

Save for Steve. He prayed to whoever was listening that two people were going to be enough to cover all grounds.

So, Tony did what he could with his small family. The family he chose and made for himself. Tony knew what it was like to lose something important, and it was always a 50/50 chance on whether it would make him stronger or break him entirely.

Tony would leave Steve reheatable food for the nights he couldn’t be home. Steve would clean and tidy up the house and keep it livable.

They had a routine; a schedule they could depend on when things did go south.

Three weeks later, he found an adult dog that could barely stand up. Rhodey helped him take her to the vet. She was pregnant, but the vet couldn’t find out how long till she’s due. Tony took her home in caution and asked May if she could have a plane ready whenever any time for the next month.

May said no.

Tony offered her money. Didn’t really work.

May just rolled her eyes and said she was going to tell Coulson about it. Better that than nothing.

They named her Marge in honor of Aunt Peggy.

Steve was the most patient with her. He never left her side if he could help it. He hand-fed her when she was too weak to get up on her own. He slept beside her, woke up every four hours to check if she was going into labor. Steve even talked to her. Told her every story he had had about the war and about the 21st century and about the Avengers.

Sometimes, Tony would hear Steve talk about him. There was an odd feeling of deja vu at the sight. Marge was asleep for the most part. Steve petted her and brushed her anyway. One week in and she was still really feeble.

Tony had Coulson on speed dial just in case.

“Hey, Steve,” Tony said one evening.

Sleeping on the couch, Steve woke up from Tony’s incessant poking. “Tony?” He got up immediately, alarmed. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“You look like shit,” Tony said.

“Gee, thanks,” Steve replied. He took a peek at Marge who was fast asleep on her bed near the head of the sofa. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m about to go to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s only 1 am.” There was a beat of silence. “We should bring Marge up in our room.”

“What?”

“Our room. Come up with me. You can…sleep on the sofa in the room or the floor. Beside Marge. We have a spare mattress somewhere. I want you close by.” Tony was almost bashful asking Steve this. He still wasn’t quite over his nightmares of Steve putting the shield through the armor’s heart, but there were barely nights where he would wake up in cold sweat and a speeding heart rate. He missed having Steve to wake up with, but he didn’t want his craving for intimacy fuck up his nightmares all over again. He needed to take things slow. “Yeah, you can sleep on the floor.”

Steve stood to Tony’s height, a huge smile on his face.

“Don’t give me that look. Get Marge. I’ll set up your blankets.”

The mattress was thin, but wide enough for Steve. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable sleep but Steve had had worse.

Marge was beside him, as promised. They alternated having to wake up to check on her, even in the mornings. She stayed in their room since Steve refused to move her unless it was absolutely necessary.

That was until she was barely moving, even to eat her food. And eventually, the blood. They decided to take her to the vet. A single thought loomed in their minds. None of them voiced it.

“You don’t have to come with,” Tony insisted.

“I want to. I’ll stay in the quinjet,” Steve said quietly. “I wanna be there for her, too.”

Tony didn’t argue any further.

They took Stripes and Sarge with them.

It was probably the smoothest and yet fastest ride May had ever piloted. She kept looking at Steve, and then raising an eye at Tony.

He only shrugged, unsure of what to say. Tony may not look it, but he was anxious about getting to the vet too. He just wanted to make sure Marge was going to be okay.

Even he spent considerable time with her. Cleaning up her vomit and making the smell disappear wasn’t exactly the most ideal way to bond, but it got her talking with him anyway. He had once called her Aunt Peggy by mistake. Tony made sure never to do that again.

Rhodey waited by their landing site with a car ready for Tony to drive to the city. They arrive at the vet in record time.

The vet and his nurses took Marge in, imploring Tony to stay in the waiting room.

Rhodey stayed with him till the procedure ended. He told her stories about the facility, the Avengers, Ross. None of them helped Tony’s lip biting or leg bouncing.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” were words he didn’t plan on hearing that day.

He dialed Steve’s number on the way back to the plane. He let Rhodey drive, just this once; just so he could make his call.

“Two of the puppies survived,” he said when Steve answered. “They had to perform C-section to get all five. We don’t have the equipment to take care of them, so I left them there for now. The vet will call once they’re better.”

“And Marge?”

He paused, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Steve.” And he hated how much his voice sounded like that dumb vet’s. “I’m so sorry.”

The flight home was hard.

“The vet said she has a few days, tops,” Tony tried weakly. Even he didn’t believe his own voice.

Steve hugged her closer. When Marge got limper in the middle of the flight, Tony made no comment.

The walk home and to their backyard was harder.

He stared down at the box he was carrying while Steve dug a hole by the beach. It was a serene moment. The waves were tame, the sun was setting, there were birds chirping from across the distance. He swore he heard Steve sniffle, but he couldn’t see any tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he tried again.

“It’s not your fault, Tony.”

Sergeant made his way to where Steve was, offering comforting licks when Steve could only offer one of his weakest smiles. Sarge whimpered at that, and sat down beside Steve. He had always been very perceptive of his surroundings, especially when it came to his favorite. Tony wasn’t much of a dog person himself, so his interactions with Sarge weren’t as engaging as Steve’s had been, but he still cared for the little guy just as much. He _was_ the one who found the little one abandoned in a box in the middle of the night on his way back home.

Stripes, however, remained by Tony’s feet, but her eyes were on them the entire time. She cocked her head to the side in question, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should give them space or not. She was a lot bigger now compared to when they first found her.

“I should have left her there the day I found her,” Tony said. “I should have...I just—I wanted you to meet her. I thought she needed us.”

“Tony, this isn’t on you. It’s not on me, either. It’s—it’s one of those things we can’t control. She was malnourished and mistreated way before you found her. We’ve done all we could.”

“I know. But I still… I wanted to—”

“—to do more. Yeah.” Steve placed one hand on the lid of the box. “Me too.”

They buried her there and offered a few words of thanks for her. She was a gift no matter how short her stay with them was.

Steve sat by her grave and Tony followed suit. They stayed there in silence until the night fell.

“Steve?” Tony asked.

“Yeah?”

“I feel like I’m too old to be saying this.” Because he really was. “Do you want to try sleeping in the same bed tonight?” He didn’t even spare a glance at Steve. He kept staring at the grave with the small makeshift cross.

Steve shifted. “Y-you think that’s a good idea?”

Tony didn’t. Not really. It still surprised him how he was able to stay in a long-term relationship—let along a marriage—for this long even after all the bullshit he— _they_ have been through.

They were way past words. All the ‘sorry’s’ and ‘I’m here’s’ didn’t always need to be reminded anymore. Slowly, they’ve grown to trust again, to make decisions for themselves without having to worry about each other because they know they’ll make the right call, even in such a contained situation as living alone in a safe house.

“It’s just sleeping. I was fine when you shared the room with me.”

“And you’re sure?”

“I trust you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Of course I do. I do, but—”

“No buts.”

“ _But.”_ Steve reached in and cupped Tony’s cheek. “Sarge and Stripes join us on the bed.”

Tony couldn’t help but feel amused despite his want to antagonize his request. “Okay. Less chances of hurting each other with baby animals around.”

Steve let out a breath. “You’re not just doing this because you feel guilty, right? I told you. It’s not your fault. We don’t need to force this if you’re still—”

“I know,” Tony said. “No. I… I want this. I want you. We can work something out when push comes to shove. But… I miss you beside me, y’know? I’m afraid of losing you. Again. Maybe, permanently this time, and I can’t have that. I can’t have you walking out that door because I couldn’t be enough.”

“Hey, hold on. I’m not going anywhere. You are _not_ losing me,” Steve said. He grabbed for Tony’s hand and kissed his palm. “You aren’t.”

“That’s what I said about Marge.”

Steve squeezed his hand. “I know, honey. I’m sorry, too. I didn’t realize you were hurting this much.”

“No. It’s fine. Let’s just...” Tony turned to look at Steve. He wiped his face with a hand in exasperation and said, “what do you want to name the puppies? It’s one girl and one boy.”

Steve tapped his chin in thought. “Flynn. The boy. Let’s name him Flynn.”

“And the girl?”

“You choose.”

“Sal,” Tony said. “Could be short for Sally, but I wanna call her Sal. I had a teacher back in MIT. I talked to him to distract me from the bullshit from home.”

“Okay, Sal it is then.” Steve let go of Tony’s hand in favor of gently getting a little closer, still wary of Tony’s reactions. He snaked an arm around Tony’s and leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder.

The simple gesture made Tony’s heart leap. His doubts about Steve’s loyalty and love dissipated almost immediately. This was where they belonged, whether it’s talking about the most mundane things or their conflicting moral obligations as superheroes. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.

“You think they’ll make it?”

“That’s the thing. The vet said it was close to a miracle that even one puppy survived. We got two, and we already named them. I don’t think the universe has a choice here.”

“When has the universe even been nice to us?” Steve turned to face Tony, chin still resting on his shoulder.

“Better late than never.”

A comfortable silence settled around them. And then, “What’d you call them again? When you first found Stripes, you called her something,” Steve spoke in a whisper, as if the conversation was only meant to be shared within their space; as if the trees, the ground, and even the stars weren’t allowed to hear.

“Our saving grace,” Tony breathed out.

“Yeah, I think I get it a little more now.”

“You too, huh?”

Because the universe probably never had a choice to begin with. That one spur of the moment decision from Tony was meant to lead them to this point; including all the laughter and the stress and the hurt and the family they gained along the way. Because maybe, just maybe—and Tony’s really pushing it here since there were no scientific facts present at the moment, he should make sure to get to that once Bruce decided to show up again—getting marriage counseling from a bunch of animals wasn’t the worse thing after all.

It was the best.

Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

Steve let idleness consume him for the better part of his stay in the safe house. His adjustment period was difficult, especially since immediately after waking up in the 21st century, fighting the good fight had always been his way of coping. It had scraped away the guilt and remorse piece by piece until he had finally been able to function like a normal person—as normal as a dude who used to call himself Captain America could manage—in a still slightly reprehensible society.

But, it wasn’t so much as the difficulty that surprised him; the struggle was something he prepared for before leaving Wakanda.

It was how easy everything was afterwards, and he wanted to remember what made everything easier despite the shithole they were in. So, Steve being Steve, he made a list.

“You like that color, Stripes?” Steve heard Tony from the kitchen, consequently followed by a soft meow. “Yeah? You think Peter’s gonna love that? Probably…overkill with the gold, huh?”

Another meow.

“No? You don’t think so?” Tony said with a slight chuckle. “Of course not. Daddy’s good with designing suits. That’s what I do. Wanna see the other suits, little girl?”

Steve’s heart did a few somersaults, as did his stomach. He wasn’t sure how he survived some days without blushing too much because,

Case 1.) Tony talked to their cat.

And not just their cat. The dogs that followed didn’t really sit still and listen to what Tony was saying half of the time. Sal was the exception who took a liking to Tony almost immediately. Though she fell asleep whenever Tony started talking. So he stuck with the cat, who seemed to prefer him over Steve anyway.

He still did try, even if it was all a lost cause.

In one of the evenings where the puppies needed to sit still in their pen while he and Tony took a walk at the beach, Tony sat by where they were while Steve got his jacket.

Tony’s conversation with Sarge, Flynn and Sal was mostly out of earshot, although Steve just walked in at the right time to get to the best part.

“Sorry, guys,” Tony said in earnest, “we’ll take you both in an evening walk next time, okay?”

There was a sad whimper from Flynn, the most excitable out of all the dogs.

Tony reached into the pen and pet him behind his ear. “Yeah, I know, bud. But there’s something your papa and I just need to talk about, okay? It’s not the time for walks.”

Case 2.) Steve was the Papa to Tony’s Daddy.

Steve was the goddamned _Papa._ That never made sense until it left Tony’s mouth.

Naturally, he used the nickname as much as he could, telling them “Papa’s gonna get you your meal” or “wanna go for a walk with Pops?” and the occasional, “you miss Daddy, don’t you? Papa misses him too,” whenever Tony was off to some meeting.

Tony did leave every other week for New York or their facility. He usually went home a day after leaving, but there were times where his stay in the city reached three days. He kept the details of the goings on from Steve. It might be about having to find him or an small threat to the a city that a single superhero could handle.

Steve was still trying to wrap his head around it that Tony was breaking the law for him. It wasn’t an easy thing to just let his husband do it, since Steve knew what it was like to be a literal hunted fugitive. But he did it anyway, because a part of him was a little selfish—or a lot, Steve was still trying to convince himself that nothing was going to go wrong.

Probably not the best thing to hold on to when the dust clears.

Despite this, Tony still smiled at him like he was his world. Like he was the sun the rose and set only for Tony. Which led to,

Case 3.) Tony had the best smiles the world had to offer.

Nothing new but something often overlooked.

They fell into an easy rhythm soon afterwards. The little ones certainly made things a little more mellow than usual. They barely had shouting matches, let alone fist fights. The house was usually always quiet, save for the barking and Tony’s loud music, but all of those are within their own right. They had date nights by the beach where Tony would cook and Steve would set up. They walked their dogs in the afternoons while the sky was tainted with hues of orange and pink and purple.

The thought of divorce had always been off the table for Steve, but he was a lot certain now that it was off for Tony too.

Everything seemed perfect, like some fairytale come to life, except it was for two married grown ups who wanted to play superhero. Steve really couldn’t ask for anything more.

That was until he received a call from Natasha. And he made sure she only called when the need was dire.

“Is it really okay?” Steve asked.

“I don’t think Nat’s just calling you for fun, Steve. Go,” Tony said. He wasn’t angry or morose. Only speaking a matter-of-factly, and Steve couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Because the truth was, Steve didn’t want Tony to want him to go. He wanted Tony to force him to stay. He wanted Tony to tell him that they had their own problems to figure out, that some part of the world could do without Steve Rogers, even for a short while. Because it had. Five months without Steve on the call and earth was still standing.

“I know you’ll be careful, but I’ll make sure Ross doesn’t track you. I’ve already modified your suit, and the new quinjet Nat has should have better cloaking,” Tony explained. “The world needs Captain America, Steve. I’ll be fine.”

The thing was, he no longer deserved to be called Captain America. He didn’t even want the name anymore. He meant what he said when he dropped the shield. Everything else was just regret neatly folded and wrapped in a false sense of righteousness. Their fight in Siberia was never meant to happen; but he still put Tony in harm's way— _actively pursued him_ without sparing a second thought. The fact that Tony still believed he was still capable of being Captain America shook Steve to his core, because,

Case 4.) Even when Steve was at his worst, Tony would always be there to be believe in him, no matter what.

His first mission lasted three weeks.

He said his farewells to his boys and girls properly, giving each of them treats and one of his shirts so they don’t go too long without his smell. Tony thought it was a waste of good shirts, but Steve knew he was just a little jealous he didn’t receive the same treatment.

And he wasn’t quite sure how this was his life now, but Sarge and Flynn took his leave worse than Tony did.  

“They wouldn’t eat on time,” Tony said when Steve got back. “I took them to the vet once but he said there was nothing wrong. I think they were just sulking.”

The next one, a month later, lasted two weeks. This time, Sarge and Flynn went with, since they practically planted themselves on the backdoor just as Steve was about to leave.

Steve went to Wakanda with two animals in tow, he came back to their safe house with three.

The tabby cat had orange fur with strips of faint white running across his body. He was just a little bigger than Stripes when they first found her. The vet at Wakanda had put him at around seven months to one year of age, and in a healthy condition save for the blindness on his eye caused by an accident during Steve’s last mission. The team was a little wary of Steve in the beginning, what with him obsessing over the wellbeing of the cat. He cooed and eased him after the stress the cat’s surrounding has put him in. His team asked for a name.

He didn’t give an answer.

He was just happy to be flying back home the next morning. The longer he stayed in Wakanda, the more anxious he got.

On a lighter note, he was afraid that Sarge and Flynn might get too used to the pampered lifestyle. The new cat wasn’t any different, but it wasn’t like Tony wouldn’t give them whatever he thought they wanted anyway.

And, on a more stupid note, there was still a nagging part of him that convinced himself Tony wasn’t there to stay because Steve never deserved him in the first place.

Reaching his and Tony’s room, he gently closed the door and found Sal and Stripes lounging in their beds. They looked so peaceful, enjoying the quiet of an otherwise Sarge-less and Flynn-less morning—Steve had to leave them in the living room should they get too excited with seeing Tony again. Steve loved them to bits, but he really wanted to be the one to wake Tony up.

The cat had on a neatly knotted bow around its neck. The bell on his leash underneath rang as Steve placed him on top of Tony’s sleeping form.

Tony had on one of Steve’s shirts, which was a nice surprise to get home to.

Case 5.) Steve was just a dumb idiot. Tony would call Steve a dumb idiot for doubting him in the first place.

Stripes and Sal kept their eyes on them, curious with the new friendly face on top of Tony.

Steve held up a finger to his mouth in silence, and the pets obeyed.

The tabby cat walked all over Tony’s back, finding a good spot on the small of it. He lay there and planted his face on Tony’s buttcrack. Steve snapped a picture with his phone, before nudging Tony awake with a kiss to the temple.

“Steve?” Tony sighed, slowly opening his eyes still clouded with sleep. “Is Stripes on me again?”

“Good morning to you too. You’re wearing my shirt.”

“You weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow.” Tony was still unmoving in his position, right arm underneath his chest with his left arm around a pillow beside him.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

Tony hummed. “Consider me surprised.”

“You better get up before your joints are locked in place. I don’t see how that’s comfortable.”

“It’s not.” Tony made some effort in getting up, but the tabby cat was unmoving. “And get Stripes off. He’s getting way too comfortable with my ass.”

“That’s not Stripes.”

“Flynn? I knew that little rascal would miss me—”

“Nope.”

“Then who?”

“Another one of those saving graces you love so much.” Steve reached for the tabby cat and placed him beside Tony’s face. “Thought you needed someone else to talk when I couldn’t be around.”

Tony got up, albeit slowly, all the while keeping his eye on the tabby. Sitting up, he reached behind his ear and scratched. The cat was immediately enamored with him, leaning into his touch and caressing his head on Tony’s thigh. “You named him yet?” Tony asked.

“I was hoping you would.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Rogers.” Tony said playfully, not even looking at Steve. He was still too fixated on the cat who reciprocated Tony’s touches.

“Of course,” Steve answered. “What do you give a man who already has everything? Just wanted to add him to the list of things we could appreciate, is all. ”

“This,” Tony answered, “is very much appreciated.” He glanced at Steve before finally leaning forward to give him a quick kiss to the mouth. “Nice to have another cat amidst the barks. Where’d you find him?”

“On my mission. There was a small explosion by an abandoned bungalow he was staying at. I was just in time to save him, but some debris caught his eye. The vet I went to said he’s in tip-top shape, though. Won’t be long till he whiles his day away in your workshop.”

“Your grandson wasn’t too jealous when he found you with a new baby to take care of?”

“My grandson?” Steve was taken aback.

“Flynn.”

Right. But it was weird to hear it from Tony anyway. “He’s only my grandson when he’s being jealous, huh?”

“Yes. And he’s mine when he behaves more like his sister and doesn’t shit all over the nice carpet.”

“You love them anyway.”

Tony scoffed. Steve knew Tony had a soft spot for the dogs. Sure, it was up to Steve to train them, but Tony didn’t fail to spoil them. The big inflatable pool on their deck was proof enough, considering they have the ocean at their dispense right outside their backdoor. “Speaking of, where are the little rascals? I’ve been sleeping in way too much without their early morning barking.”

“I wanted to have you alone even just for a little bit, so I left them in their pen downstairs.”

Tony chuckled. “Someone’s a little selfish today.” He propped his head on the backrest of the bed with a pillow, and crossed his legs. Placing his new cat on his lap, Tony scratched him under the chin. “How does Arthur sound?” Tony asked, eyes up at the ceiling. “You know, the one from Camelot.”

“Arthur sounds perfect,” Steve mused. He reached for Arthur and started rubbing him on the back.

The day went on without any grand gesture; nothing to prove from either Steve or Tony. They watched reruns of The Bachelor and the Great British Bake Off until the sun had cast an orange hue in their murky white room. Tony had nodded off every now and then, while Arthur was sprawled on his chest and Stripes cozy by his armpit. Steve was occupied by Sal who sat on his lap, while Flynn and Sarge played until they were too tired to get up from the floor.

No grand gestures.

Until Steve nudged Tony awake for the second time that day. The night had fallen. Steve lead Tony outside to the deck, where they got a good look at where the ocean met the sky. But instead of focusing on that, they focused on each other, pushing the two sunbathing chairs together, clasping at each other’s hands, and talking, and laughing—just like they used to.

Nothing to prove.

Until Steve fell quiet, just listening to Tony’s voice, smooth and serene, talk about his latest inventions, his latest upgrades, how Stripes refused to go potty in her litter box unless both Tony and Sal were there, how Sal would howl at an empty spot in the house in the middle of the night which scared Tony more than it should, how Tony had grown to love them despite their flaws.

How Tony had grown to love himself because there was always more to gain.

He never really said it; not out loud. But Steve could hear it in the tone of his voice that he was at least enjoying himself in the little paradise they had created. Maybe, facing the real world wasn’t going to be as bad; not when they were going to be together.

Case 6.) Steve would marry Tony again and again and again. Even if it drove the rest of the world insane.

So, of course, Steve just had to ask, “Anthony Edward Stark. Will you marry me? Again?” Because there might be nothing left to prove, but that never meant he wouldn’t do it anyway.  

“Steve, we only separated for three months”

“I know.”

“We never got divorced.”

“I know.”

“I always thought you were the simple type.”

“I don’t think anybody’s simple once they start dating you. You did bring home a cat to fix our marriage.”

“And you love her.”

“And I love you. And I just really, _really_ wanna get married to you again. Come to Wakanda with me just once. I’m sure T’challa would love to have you over.”

“Wakanda? You’ve been with T’challa all this time? And here I thought you were living off of scraps. I knew something felt off when you agreed to take Flynn and Sarge along.”

“Sorry?”

Tony just shrugged and smiled. “I’m gonna need to get a do-not-disturb-me leave from the facility. A week should be enough, right? I’m gonna take the rest of the Avengers with me. Oh, and Pepper. Should I? That’s too suspicious. Should I or should I not? We could fake a mission—ah, no. That UN needs to—”

“Hey, hey. Relax. We’ll figure that out later. I just really needed to ask you would have me all over again. Because I would. Have you that is.”

“Ross is going to go nuts if he finds out.”

“All the better.”

Tony smiled and planted a quick kiss on Steve’s nose. “Fine. Let’s get married again.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos appreciated! you can find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/jvcobby)


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